


Tales from the Disneyland Resort #002: "The Escape"

by Emerald2000



Series: Tales from the Disneyland Resort [2]
Category: Disney - All Media Types, Doctor Who, Steptoe and Son (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 06:50:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11915448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald2000/pseuds/Emerald2000
Summary: Joy and Bing Bong listen to a story about the mass BBC television wiping in the 1970s during a night in Club 33.





	Tales from the Disneyland Resort #002: "The Escape"

 

**A SHORT STORY BASED ON THE MASS BBC WIPING**

**WRITTEN BY:**  
_**Daniel Aguirre Hansell/Emerald2000.** _

●On a cloudy, rainy night at the Disneyland Resort, some of the park’s characters were in Club 33, at New Orleans Square. The park that day had been extremely busy, chock-a-block full of people and families. The summer had reeled in tens of thousands of guests in both Disneyland and California Adventure. Resting their aching bodies from dozens of character interactions, the Disney crew were tuckered out from the long day. Sitting up at the lavishly decorated wooden bar, Joy and Bing Bong were enjoying a much-deserved drink. They clashed their glasses together, making a toast.

“Here’s to a busy day”, said a tired Bing Bong.

Joy drank her exotic raspberry cocktail from a silly straw, “Yeah, boy am I pooped! I must have met so many kids today! I thought I was gonna break character at any moment”

Bing Bong flexed his wrist, “Man, my wrist aches so much from all the autographs I signed”

“How many did you sign?”, asked Joy.

Bing Bong scratched his head, thinking, then began looking at his fingers, “Um... I lost count after it went into the hundreds”.

Joy laughed, “Hah! I sometimes wonder who’s signed the most”.

“Probably Mr. Mouse, he’s been here the longest it seems”, Bing Bong said.

Joy tapped her hand on the bar, “Hey barkeep, can I get some more ice in this drink?”

The bartender nodded towards joy as he was giving King Louie a refill on ginger beer. Joy smiled and sighed, looking around at the various characters around her. She saw B.E.N. with Beymax, Pongo and Perdita with Lady and Tramp, Maleficent with Lilo and Stitch, and Bambi with Jack Skellington, Lock, Shock and Barrell.

“I just love our job, Bing Bong”, Joy said aloud.

“Mhm...”, muttered Bing Bong, drinking his cocktail, “...us Pixar characters live in luxury among the Disney folk”.

Just then, voices began raising as the Mad Hatter held his hands up to the March Hare, who had a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Stay away from me, you nut!”, he yelled.

The March Hare was getting impatient, “A bet’s a bet! I gave out the most autographs today, so you have to drink coffee!”

Alice was beside the March Hare, giving him some help, “He’s quite right, Hatter, you lost, he won, fair and square, now drink your coffee”.

“I refuse!”, the Mad Hatter yelled.

“Oh, come on...”, said an irritated Alice, “...you said it yourself, you used to make coffee before you took up tea”.

“She’s right!...”, yelled the March Hare, “...You stated that back in 2015! Don’t worry I added sugar”.

The Mad Hatter waved his left arm around, “Ah! That was way long long long long lauhlauhlauhlauh long time ago! You guys remember the silliest of things!”

The March Hare stepped closer as others watched in amusement. Joy thought the scene was very funny. The Mad Hatter searched through his pockets, throwing out the material tea cups he uses for guest interactions, then pulls out a photo of Walt Disney, holding it up in front of him.

“The power of Walt compels you!!”, he bellowed.

Joy and Bing Bong burst out laughing, and so did some of the others. Bambi was in tears at the Mad Hatter’s antics.

“You will drink it, Hatter”, pushed Alice.

“Drink it!”, yelled the March Hare.

The Mad Hatter quickly gulped down the coffee. His hat spun around, and his white hair spiked out. He tilted forward, falling flat on his face, light-headed.

Alice laughed, shaking her head. The March Hare smiled.

“He has fulfilled his task!”, he stated before grabbing the Mad Hatter by the legs, dragging him back to the table without his hat.

Alice quickly ran and got his hat and material tea cups, bringing them back with her to their table. Everyone laughed. Joy wiped away tears from her eyes. Bing Bong had cried sweets all over the floor. Lock, Shock and Barrel picked them up like scavengers before scampering off back to their table.

“Now that’s a good example of why I love it here”, said Bing Bong in a happy tone.

Joy nodded, while the bartender put some more ice into her cocktail. As joy drank some, she looked around, spotting Mary Poppins sitting at a table by the grand piano, which Grumpy was playing Once Upon a Time in New York City on. Mary Poppins was alone. She gazed around at anything in general, looking rather impatient about something.

Joy gave Bing Bong a nudge, pointing over to Mary Poppins.

“Huh? Oh, she looks lonely, wanna give her some company?”, Bing Bong proposed.

Joy nodded, getting off her chair, “Come on, candy butt”.

Bing Bong grabbed his cocktail, following Joy.

Mary Poppins tapped her fingers on the wooden table. Joy and Bing Bong sat down at her table rather abruptly.

Joy smiled a big grin, “Hi, Miss Poppins! We saw you were alone”.

“So, we’re gonna give you some company”, added Bing Bong.

Mary Poppins smiled, shaking her head, “I can’t keep you three-dimensional characters at bay can I?”

“Nope!”, said Joy in a happy burst.

Bing Bong wondered why she looked upset, “How come you’re so down? Something happen today?”

“Did someone step on your feet? I had that all day”, added Joy.

Mary Poppins shook her head again, “No, no, nothing of the sort. Bert has been delayed for almost an hour, so I’ve simply had to wait and do nothing”.

“Ooooh...”, said Joy, now knowing, “...well while you’re waiting, we’ll keep you company”.

“You’re both very kind and caring for your fellow Disney comrades”, Mary Poppins said in a warm tone.

“So how did your day go?”, asked Bing Bong.

Mary Poppins let out a big huff, “Well I was rather peeved on several occasions today. It seems that children get the unnecessary idea to pull on my dress, and some adults had the audacity to ask me where the Simpsons Ride was”.

Joy spat out some of her cocktail she was laughing so hard, “Hahahaha!! I’ve had my fair share of brain dead park guests”.

“I tell you joy, those finger scanners suck out their brains”, joked Bing Bong.

“Indeed, they do”, agreed Mary Poppins, using a napkin to wipe away Joy’s cocktail from the table.

Joy brought up the busy day again, “But man was the park packed today! When do you think it was like that last, Miss Poppins?”

Mary Poppins thought for a moment, then remembered, “Oh, a long time ago. I think it was around the 80’s before Splash Mountain was conceived”.

“How busy was that day?”, asked Joy.

“Oh, far worse than today. The capacity of the Disneyland Resort is approximately 85,000 guests, also including the 10,000 cast members when every ride is functioning as expected”, replied Mary Poppins.

Joy groaned, “Oh, well I’m glad I didn’t get to experience that day, I don’t think I could cope with that many guests during the summer, it’s a good thing we only see those figures on New Year’s Day”.

Just then Bert came into the room, outfitted in his chimney sweeping uniform. He whistled Jolly Holliday while he walked past people and characters. He had his chimney sweeping brush with him, which dropped soot all over the floor, making the carpet dirty.

“Alright, Mary? Sorry, I’m late”, Bert apologised.

“And what exactly were you doing that made you ever so late?”, asked Mary Poppins in a rather annoyed tone.

Bert raised his arms as if the reason was unavoidable, “The stacks on the Mark Twain Riverboat were backfiring all sorts of mess over the guests today, so I was told to give ‘em a good sweep”.

“I see...”, said Mary Poppins, feeling less annoyed, “...must take a long while to dust bust those tall smoke stacks. Have a seat, Bert”.

Bert proceeded to sit down, but not before leaning his brush up against the wall, leaving a black mark on the wallpaper.

“So, what are we chatting about ‘ere?”, asked Bert enthusiastically.

“We were comparing today to that time in the uhh... 80’s”, Joy said.

Bert pulled a frowny face, “That day made me queasy”.

Bing Bong offered to get Bert a drink, “You want anything, Mr. Bert?”

“Nah, I’m alright for the moment. I haven’t seen you two in a while, where’ve ya been?”, asked Bert.

Joy drank some of her cocktail, “Mmmm, we’ve been in Tomorrowland for the last month. Our character schedule changed”.

Bing Bong then notice the two pins Mary Poppins and Bert were wearing.

“Hey, I’ve not seen those pins before, are they exclusive ones?”, Bing Bong asked Bert.

Bert looked down at his polished pin, “What this? Heh, well I guess you can call it an exclusive pin”.

Bert looked towards Mary Poppins, who looked at her own. She smiled.

“If you are thinking it’s a Disney-related pin, you are quite incorrect”, Mary Poppins stated.

Joy was confused, “I thought we were only supposed to show off Disney to the guests, and not other stuff? Hey, wanna trade?”.

Mary Poppins put her hand over her pin, “The thought of it!”.

“Well, Joy...”, said Bert, “...these are the pins of the National Film Registry. Our film got chosen in 2013 by the Librarian of Congress, along with twenty-four others”.

Bing Bong got excited, “Oh! Oh! I know that! I know this one! That’s the special list of movies that are said to be the best ever made!”

Joy got excited too, “Yay! I have no idea why I’m happy”.

Bing Bong turned to Joy, “You see, Joy, every year a board of film buffs pick twenty-five movies that are considered to be worthy of lasting forever as a kind of time capsule. They are put in storage for years”.

“Forever!?”, Joy said, gobsmacked.

“Yes, Joy, and ever, and ever”, Mary Poppins added.

“Inside Out got great reviews, how can we get on that list?”, Joy asked excitedly.

Bing Bong shook his head, putting his trunk under Joy’s chin, turning her head towards him, “It don’t work like that, Joy. The only condition is that the movie in question is ten years old”.

Joy slumped in her seat, “You sucked out my happy, Bing Bong”.

Bert laughed at Joy’s comical behaviour, “You just wait, you’ll be on that list in 2025, I bet ya”.

“You don’t happen to have prints of your film lying around?”, Mary Poppins asked Joy.

Joy sat back up straight again, “You mean the plastic rolls with the holes in it? Yeah, they made a bunch of those for old timey theatres. I think Mr. Lasseter has some”.

“That’s good...”, said Bert, “...tell John to keep hold of it, the NFR uses them for preservation since they last almost one thousand years in cold storage”.

Joy tilted her head, smiling, “One thousand years, eh? You know I always thought plastic was the only reason we’re all here. Plastic!”

Mary Poppins nodded in agreement, “Yes, that’s quite true from a certain point of view, however, some are not so lucky”.

Mary Poppins picked up a menu that was on the table. Joy and Bing Bong were interested in why some were ‘not so lucky’.

“What do you mean by that?”, Joy asked, curiously.

Mary leaned over to Bert, pointing to something on the menu, "Bert, can you order us a plate of the cookies, please”.

Bert saluted before getting up, “Alright, ma’am, you want anything to drink while I’m up there?”

“I’ll have a rum punch, please”, she said.

Bert went off to the bar. Joy and Bing Bong turned their attention back to Mary Poppins.

“So, what did you mean by that, Miss Poppins?”, Bing Bong asked.

Mary Poppins proceeded to tell them, “There is a company in England called the British Broadcasting Corporation or known in abbreviation as the BBC. Now in the 1960’s, around the time Mary Poppins premiered, the BBC had began to produce television programming on new video technology, recording sound and picture onto magnetic tape”.

“Is that digital like us?”, Joy asked.

“No, it’s more of an analogue format...”, she stated, “...now shows were produced on this because it was far cheaper than celluloid film. Now they were called two-inch tapes, and they were very big”.

She put her hands out in front of her, giving an inaccurate measurement of how big the tapes were.

“Really?...”, Bing Bong said, puzzled, “...Hard drives are like this big, didn’t they run out of space?”

Mary Poppins pointed at him, “Precisely why characters created from tapes programming are so unfortunate. The BBC saw they were running out of space, and the magnetic tape was considered more valuable than the programme recorded on it, costing an arm and a leg. You see before the late seventies television was not very well looked upon in the long run, so employees were ordered to wipe the tapes and reuse them. Shows were just simply gone.”.

Joy and Bing Bong were horrified.

“THEY RM* TV SHOWS!?”, Joy yelled in bewilderment.

Everyone around her flinched from the loud noise. Carl Fredericksen waved his fist, annoyed.

“Don’t mention that word, it makes my knees wobble!”, he moaned.

Just then, Bert came back with the rum punch and cookies.

He placed them on the table, then stuck his finger in his ear, “You have one big mouth on you, Joy”.

“Sorry, Mr. Bert”, she said, apologizing.

Bing Bong felt frightened, “It’s like what happened to Toy Story 2. Will we be erased like those TV shows?”.

Mary Poppins comforted Bing Bong, “Oh, no no no, the thought of it. Inside Out will live on, don’t you worry”.

Bing Bong shed a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank goodness, but what happened to the characters and the shows? W-were they erased entirely?”.

Bert munched on a cookie, “Tell them that story about Bob Monkhouse”.

“Yes, I was just getting to that, Bert”, Mary Poppins said, taking a sip of her rum punch.

“Who’s Bob Monkeyhouse?”, Joy asked.

Mary Poppins put down her drink, “Bob Monkhouse was a famed British television personality and comedian. He was also a vintage film collector. He possessed rare copies of old silent films from the dawn of cinema. Now the story I’m going to tell you is how some taped television shows escaped the cold destructive hand of the old BBC”.

Joy and Bing Bong leaned in to listen, munching on biscuits and drinking their cocktails.

Mary Poppins proceeded to tell the story...

●...The late 1960’s. A cold stormy night blew across the old BBC Television Centre in White City, West London. Bob Monkhouse was pottering around in the BBC Sales Department after a day of shooting shows. It was the graveyard shift, so he was the only one left in the department. Most of the staff had gone home for the night. Bob was rummaging through some 16mm canisters of his BBC programmes that were ready to be shipped to other countries for foreign broadcasting. He yawned, tired from the day. Putting his coat on, he walked out of the room, into another. The dark room was large with shelves of canister upon canister of BBC telerecordings. As he put on a hat and focused on doing up his jacket buttons, he accidentally walked into a stack of empty 16mm canisters, knocking them all over making a frightful noise. Just as they made the clattering noise of metal, a scream came from the shadows.

“GAAAAH!!”

Bob nearly jumped out of his skin, “Good gawd almighty! Who’s there?”

There was no reply. All Bob could hear was the sound of rattling metal.

“If you won’t come out of the dark I’ll come in there myself!”, he stated.

Coming out of the darkness was an aged black-and-white man, holding canisters of 16mm telerecordings of a show called Steptoe and Son. Video distortion gave a small distortion to his appearance.

“P-please don’t tell on us!”, the old man begged.

Another black-and-white man came out, this time younger.

He scolded him, “Stop shaking, you silly old git, the rattling will attract attention to us! Do you not know the meaning of the word stealth?”

He was also holding telerecordings from the same programme.

“What in the world are you two doing here? And why do you have those?”, Bob asked, interrogating them.

The old man looked down at the precious canisters, “They’re ours! No one can take them away from us!”

“Dad will you shut up!”, his son whispered loudly.

Bob approached them, looking around, very perplexed, “Are there more of you?”.

“No...”, the young black-and-white man said, “...yes, there’s two others, come on out”.

Out of the dark came two more black-and-white characters, holding 16mm telerecordings. One looked older than the other, who was short in stature and had a Beatles-style haircut.

“I say have we been caught?”, the short black-and-white man said.

Bob then recognised them, “Wait, I know you four. Your Albert and Harold Steptoe, the rag-and-bone men. And you two are the first two Doctor Whos. Shouldn’t you all be in your character accommodations? What are you doing here at this time of night?”

The First Doctor looked down at the telerecordings of his show, “Escaping!”

“W-what?”, sputtered Bob.

“Escaping!...”, Albert continued, “...They want to destroy us! All of us! These are just the remaining prints of our programmes left here. They wiped the master tapes for other shows to use!”.

Bob approached them, very concerned for the black-and-white characters, “Destroy!? Who wants to destroy you!?”

“Why the BBC of course!”, Harold stated.

Bob Monkhouse was horrified. He had never seen or heard of something like this going on, and in the BBC where he made his living, outrageous!

The Second Doctor asked Bob for assistance, “Listen, my friend. Can you please do us a big favour and help us escape somewhere where those rapscallions won’t find these?”

“Please, Sir Monkhouse. No character or television programme, no matter how important or unimportant should not be confiscated as yesterday’s rubbish. Please. Have you no emotions?”, the First Doctor pleaded.

Bob paused for a moment, thinking very hard very quickly.

Harold came forward, “I’ve got it all organised see. Hercules, our horse is outside in a secret place waiting for us to rendezvous with him”.

A stern look overcame Bob’s face. He loved old films especially silent films and knew how many of them were missing. He was not going to stand seeing television shows wiped and forgotten.

“Ok, I’ll help, but we’ll have to be quick. I don’t know who’s left in this building, so we’ll have to keep a low profile”, Bob said, feeling courageous.

Albert hopped on the spot with excitement, “Oh, thank you, thank you, Mr. Monkhouse!”

“Shhh!...”, said Bob quietly, looking out the door, “...The coast is clear, come on”.

Running through the halls of the old BBC Television Centre, Bob lead them all down an emergency exit staircase. Going down the staircase, Harold dropped one of the telerecordings.

“Oh, gawd!”, he yelled.

Before the canister could fall down the staircase, Bob swiftly grabbed it, putting it under his arm.

He looked back up at them, “Come one everyone, get your acts together!”

They proceeded down the stairs, exiting the building. Bob held open the door while the others ran out.

“Now what? Where’s the horse?”, said the Second Doctor.

Harold placed the canisters on the ground, in the dry, “One moment, clowny”.

Harold put his fingers in his mouth, blowing a loud, long whistle.

In the distance came a faint whinny. Slowly coming into view amidst the pouring rain and flashes of lightning came Hercules, pulling a rag-and-bone cart.

“Quick, get those canisters on the cart and covered, quick!”, Bob said.

The four put the stacks of canisters on the cart, then took off their jackets, covering them up, sheltering them from the rain. Bob hopped on the front, and so did Harold.

“Thanks, mate!...”, Harold said with glee, “...Now, all we need is a place to go to”.

Bob looked at Harold, drenched in rain, “I thought you knew what you were doing”.

Albert came between the two, commenting, “He never did think things through”.

Bob then remembered his flat, which was not too far from where they were.

“My flat!...”, exclaimed Bob, “...You don’t perhaps know the way to Kensington?”

Harold smiled smugly, “Oh, Bobby, you don’t watch my show, do you. Are you three ready back there?”

“Yes, we are”, said the Second Doctor.

“Hurry child, before we are spotted”, the First Doctor ordered.

Harold grabbed Hercules’ reins, “Ok, hang on tight everyone. Come on Hercules, hya!”

Whipping the reins, Hercules raised his front legs in the air, letting out a long whinny before galloping out of the car park and onto the main road. Through the rain, Hercules ran fast and swift. Thankfully there were not many cars on the road that stormy night. At speed, through Shephard’s Bush, they came to Holland Park, saving time by going across the grassy field, heading for Kensington. Hercules galloped through Kensington High Street before coming to a stop in a quiet backstreet, illuminated by yellow sodium vapour lamps.

Bob got off the cart, throwing his front door keys to Albert, “I’m up on the second floor, get the door open ready for us.

Albert nodded, smiling. The old man got off the cart and ran up to the main door.

“Hang on...”, said the First Doctor, “...what about Hercules?”

Harold was fearful, “Oh my god! He’ll stick out like a sore thumb come the mornin’!”

The Second Doctor came around with the Doctor Who telerecordings in his arms, “Tell the equine to hide somewhere until morning”.

Harold patted the Second Doctor on the shoulder, “Good idea, Doctor!”

Harold jumped off the cart, untying Hercules from it.

“Now listen, Hercules, if you are seen, we are in deep shtook, go find somewhere nice to hide like Kensington Palace. Yeah, yeah, you’ll fit in real nice there, all them lovely bird horses. I’ll come get you in the morning when I can, now go!”, Harold ordered.

Hercules trotted away from them, disappearing in the rainfall. The sound of his hooves was eventually replaced by thunder and lighting.

Harold went around to the back of the cart, getting his telerecordings, “Thank you very much, Bob, you won’t regret it, I assure you!”

“I hope I don’t”, said Bob rather excitedly.

They all ran into his flat. Once in his home, the old characters danced with glee at their accomplishment. Bob Monkhouse was just glad to have been a part of it.

●”So...”, said Mary Poppins, bringing the story to a close, “...They took refuge in Bob Monkhouse’s Kensington flat for almost three months and left the telerecordings with him until a separate incident occurred years later in 1979. You see, Bob had a wide collection of old silent movies. He happened to have lent one to the son of a Monty Python member, which sparked a court case about him pirating films without paying the owners, and in the result, people found out about him helping the four television characters escape with telerecordings of their programmes”.

Joy and Bing Bong sat in silence at the story with their mouths wide open.

“Close your mouths, you are not codfish”, she said, quoting herself.

Joy and Bing Bong closed their mouths.

“Did they have to give back the episodes of their shows?”, Bing Bong asked.

“Unfortunately yes, however by that time the BBC had seen the light about preserving their older material”, Mary Poppins stated.

Bert finished off the last biscuit, “You see, although the masters were wiped, the 16mm telerecordings were found left in other countries around the world, so the hunt is still on for lost television. Also, movies, but that’s a more complicated matter altogether”.

Joy slumped back in her seat thinking about the story. She felt sorry for the characters out there who were orphaned from their original source material. It reminded her of Riley’s discarded memories, how they can never return.

“Well...”, muttered Joy, “...at least they have some of them back, but I wish them all the luck Disney and Pixar can afford”.

“That’s a lot of luck”, added Bing Bong.

“I too have had this feeling. When Mary Poppins premiered in the world famous Chinese Theatre, the original full television broadcast of the event was not archived, so people have had to piece together the event from odd photographs and radio audio”, she said, finishing off her rum punch.

Bert then let out a big yawn, “Uuaaahgh! That sweeping really tired me out”.

“You’re not going, are you?”, Bing Bong asked Bert.

“I am tired from today”, Bert said.

Joy’s eyes drooped, “Well I guess it’s time to go, Bing Bong. Look, the others are going”.

Bing Bong looked around to see the club packing up and characters leaving. Jack Skellington cradled Bambi in his arms, carrying him out. Lock, Shock and Barrell followed, rubbing their eyes and yawning. Alice dragged the Mad Hatter and the March Hair by their arms. They were drunk from putting whiskey in their tea.

“Marchy I love you maaan...”, Hatter said, “...Lewis Carroll ain’t got nothin’ on us!”.

The March Hare hiccupped, “I... I... I... I’m gonna google m-myself when I get home”.

As the others left, Mary Poppins stood up, grabbing her bag, “Ok, everyone it is time for bed. We all must be prepared for a similar onslaught tomorrow”.

Bing Bong stretched his arms and trunk, “Ooooh! Yep, come on, Joy”.

“Ok, ok”, Joy said, taking the three empty glasses, putting them on the bar.

Joy and Bing Bong left Club 33 with Mary Poppins and Bert. After a long gruelling day at the Disneyland Resort, they earned a well-deserved night’s sleep.

 **THE END**  
**This has been a tale from The Disneyland Resort**  
_**STORY © BOSS BATTLES PRODUCTIONS MMXVII** _  
_**ALL CHARACTERS © OF THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS** _


End file.
